


Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

by Ataraxie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Divorce, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Smut, other woman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-04 10:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4133532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ataraxie/pseuds/Ataraxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ginny left him alone with their son, Harry Potter thought that he couldn't make it. But with the help of Hermione Granger, life goes on and love blossoms. Is it their happily ever after or is it too good to be true? HP/HG.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Day She Left

**Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic**

_"Sometimes, our compass breaks  
_

_And our steady true north fades"_

**_Sleeping At Last - West_ **

* * *

**J** ames was crying. His cries, loud and insistent, were a proof enough of his discomfort into his father's arms. Harry was doing his best to calm his son, rocking him at a slow pace, the same rhythm that Ginny usually used to appease their one-year-old little boy. Many times, the Boy-Who-Lived had seen his wife doing this, whispering words full of love and care next to James' ear, kissing his cheek when the need to show him how loved he was overwhelmed her. But now, he was alone in the middle of the living room, James into his arms, Harry tried to push these memories aside, focusing his attention on his son.

"What do you want, Jamie? You've already eaten less than one hour ago," he sighed.

Deep inside, he wanted nothing more than hearing something coming from James' mouth, to hear him saying what he really wanted. But at one-year-old, James didn't seem to be able to say something more than "dada" or a succession of onomatopoeias of any sort.

Two months had passed since the last day Harry had seen James Sirius Potter. Two months spent abroad, far from his family, far from Ginny. He had surely thought that things would have changed during these months, but, to be honest, he wouldn't have thought that his life would have changed so drastically during his absence. It's one thing to take important decisions, the kind of decisions that could change your life forever; it's another thing to see that people other than you could be at the origin of these decisions.

Obviously tired of crying, James started to fall asleep, to Harry's great relief. Without making any sound, he went to the child's room and put him into his crib, gently caressing his face before leaving the bedroom. He pushed the door behind him, not totally closing it; he wanted to be sure to hear any sound that James could make.

Like a zombie, he returned into the living room, looking around as if he was trying to see if anything had changed during his absence. But everything seemed to be at the same place than before, nothing seemed to be new, awkwardly enough. The photo frames were showing the same pictures, the same scenes that Harry had lived in the past: his wedding with Ginny Weasley, the first day on Earth of James. Even his only picture of his parents' was still here, next to a picture of a proud James showing his first tooth.

Slowly, he took the picture that Molly had taken on his wedding day and sat on the sofa, his hands slightly shaking. Harry couldn't take off his eyes of Ginny, the most beautiful bride that he had ever seen. She was truly stunning, with her long and curly hair falling freely onto her shoulders enhanced with a few flowers, her white dress fitting perfectly and flattering her silhouette in the most elegant way. Next to his wife, Harry was gazing at her, and the young man noticed how in love he was at this exact moment. It was more than love, actually: he was under her spell, eyeing the redhead intently, as if he was scared to see her slip out of his hands at the spur of the moment.

_And it was exactly what had just occurred._

**XxX**

" _Is somebody home?," Harry asked in a loud voice when he closed the entrance door behind him._

_It was something amazing to finally be home after two months abroad, searching for criminals of all kind. During these two months, he had wondered more than once if he would be able to see them again, if he would survive this. But in the end, the team of well-trained Aurors had done a perfect job, and here he was: at home._

_It was hard to hold back his smile of pure joy: knowing that James and Ginny were that close was enough to make him forget everything about his tiredness, everything about his need to collapse onto a bed and to bury his head in a pillow._

" _We are here," Ginny's thin voice came from the kitchen, alongside with James' incessant babbling._

_Harry hadn't seen his little boy during two long months, and all that he wanted was to take him into his arms and to hug him against his chest. But he knew that he couldn't do this right away when he saw that James was currently eating, seated into his highchair. The green-eyed man walked toward the two loves of his life and tousle James' hair before bending over to give his wife a kiss. Ginny turned her head at the last moment, giving him her cheek instead of the lips that he had been craving since a long time._

" _I was hoping for a better welcome to be honest," Harry muttered, not knowing if he had to laugh or not. Maybe that Ginny didn't want to show any sign of intimacy in front of James after all._

" _I'm busy, Harry," Ginny sighed, giving another spoon of mashed potatoes to James._

" _I'm going to put my bag into the bedroom then."_

_His wife nodded, visibly not interested by what he'd just said, and Harry headed to their bedroom, frowning. What could have happened during his absence for Ginny to be so distant? She was not this kind of woman, cold and obscure; on the contrary, she was a funny, caring, and friendly woman._

_When he entered into their bedroom, the first thing that he noticed was the lack of shoes in front of the dressing-room, next to the bedroom. Usually, Ginny left her high-heels shoes there, much to Harry's dismay. Preoccupied, for a reason unknown to him, he went to the dressing-room, his heart beating faster into his chest. Swiftly, he opened the doors and saw that the wardrobe was empty. Well, it wasn't totally empty, since some of Harry's clothes were still hanging, his suits mostly._

_For a second, Harry was sure that he forgot to breathe. Things were spinning in front of his eyes, and he couldn't help but remember about Ginny's cold attitude toward him when he had arrived, minutes prior._

_What was happening?_

_Harry left the bedroom, his bag still into his right hand. When he returned into the kitchen, Ginny raised a surprise eyebrow._

" _Weren't you supposed to put your bag into the bedroom?"_

" _Aren't_ _your clothes supposed to still be in the dressing?," Harry retorted, not even knowing why he had said this at this exact moment. There were so many other ways to say it, so many other things that he had thought about, but among all of them, it was this sentence that his brain had wanted to say out loud._

_The embarrassment that he had seen into Ginny's eyes at this moment should have been enough for Harry to understand that it was true, after all: she wanted to leave him._

_Like in a dream, he looked at his wife while she was taking James from his highchair, and continued to do so when she put him into his playpen. When she turned to him, urging him to go into the living room in order to speak freely without being disturbed by James, Harry did what she was silently asking for, his right hand still clenched around the handle of his bag._

" _What is going on? Do you plan to leave with James?," Harry suddenly asked in a hoarse voice when they were finally alone._

" _Not at all!," Ginny retorted in a snap, her long and red hair falling on both sides of her face._

" _Well, since you obviously packed your things, I thought–"_

" _I don't plan to leave with James," Ginny said in a calm voice, crossing her arms on her chest._

_Harry let out a heavy sigh, visibly relieved by this answer._

" _Then why did you pack your things? You scared me more than I can admit it, Ginny."_

" _I don't plan to leave with James," she repeated. "James is going to stay with you."_

_Harry's green eyes were wide open, and, if someone was closed enough, he could have heard his slow and deep breathing, contrasting with the stress that he was feeling inwardly. His bag falling at his feet made a loud sound, and Ginny almost jumped out of surprise. Harry blinked a few times, and the information seemed to eventually reach his brain. Ginny was leaving._

" _You are leaving us," Harry said, his voice as steady as it could be in such an intense moment._

_His eyes searched for hers, searched for a reason behind all of this. But Ginny looked down, her hands clenching on the fabric of her pale pink dress. Harry saw her biting her lower lip, like a child caught while doing a stupid thing._

" _You ar–," Harry repeated once again, taking a step toward her._

" _I am leaving, yes!," his wife cut him off, finally saying out loud what Harry had feared to hear since the beginning._

_He fell onto the sofa, not searching for her eyes any longer: he had had her answer, after all. Both of them remained quiet, not wanting to put some words on the situation that they were currently living. Putting words onto it would be like making it real, and it was the last thing that Harry wanted at this exact moment._

_More than five minutes passed, and, eventually, Ginny walked toward him and sat on the sofa next to him, taking care to put some distance between their two shaking bodies–but not for the same reasons. She breathed calmly, sometime hearing James babbling while playing with his toys, thinking about what she could say to Harry, to her husband. They had been married since three years, and she had thought about leaving more than once. Not because she didn't love him anymore, of course not. How could she stop loving someone as caring and gentle like Harry Potter? She had loved him since the first day, she had learned to know him even if the circumstances hadn't been ideal, and she had accepted to marry him when he had proposed, four years ago. She could almost remember the things that she had felt that day, the joy, the laugh, the tears. Harry had kissed her more than once this day, showing her how in love he was. Ginny had felt special since the day when Harry Potter had put his green and vivid eyes on her, and she had thought that he could give her the life that she had craved for since so long._

_Harry had given her a child, a beautiful son of whom she was so proud of: James. His bright green eyes had been enough to make her yield, to make her put the things that she truly wanted aside during a year. But now, it wasn't enough any more._

" _I've received an opportunity that I can't refuse, Harry," Ginny whispered, wondering if she should put her hand onto his knee, as a sign of understanding. Of course, she knew that what she was currently saying was despicable to Harry's eyes, but she had waited for so long into his shadow. At twenty-six year-old, she wanted to start something new, she wanted to be known by her own name, Ginny Weasley-Potter._

" _What kind of... opportunity?," Harry managed to ask, even if he could feel that his throat was dry, dryer than it had never been in the past, despite all the things that he had went through since his younger years._

" _The Holyhead Harpies are offering me a-year-training."_

_Quidditch. It had always been Quidditch to Ginny's eyes. Ironically enough, Harry had always thought that he would have been the one playing Quidditch between them, the one who would have a professional career as a Seeker. And here they were, sitting on a sofa, separated by a few inches, talking about Ginny's future career and departure._

_Harry dared to give her a side-glance, even if, inwardly, he wanted to leave the_ _room, to leave the house that they had taken so many time to find, the house where all their memories were gathered. He just wanted to run from this place, to forget about everything that had came from Ginny's mouth from the moment he had put his foot in his house; in their house._

" _You accepted," Harry stated, knowing how impulsive Ginny could be sometime._

_Her silence was an answer on its own._

" _And what about James?," Harry went on, finally talkative, more than he thought he could be._

" _James will be with you during this year. Look, Harry...," Ginny sighed. "I know how hard this decision must look like, I know that you are mad at m–"_

" _You know nothing, Ginny," Harry hissed, shaking his head. "You just decided to leave me, to leave us without even talking to me in the first place!"_

" _Would you have accepted it if I had asked you? I don't think so."_

" _You don't think so?!," he raised his voice. "You didn't even think about asking me my opinion about it. You just decided that it was your decision to make; you didn't think for a second that I would like to talk to you about it before you accept this training."_

" _And did you ask for my opinion when you decided to become an Auror?," Ginny snapped at him visibly irritated by his words._

" _Are you serious here?"_

" _Of course I am. You decided to become an Auror, to risk your life twice a year, and I didn't have my word to say in this decision."_

" _I chose this career years ago, Ginny!," Harry shouted. "You decided to marry me despite this, and I think that it is enough for me to say that you weren't that reluctant to have an Auror as a husband."_

_He couldn't believe it. She could have reproached him many things; but this... This was the last thing that Harry would have thought about._

" _But what about my dreams, Harry? I am doing a job that I hate, I am looking after James everyday because you are not here, you are never here," she started to shout at him, raising from the sofa. "I didn't think that my life would be like this when I married you, Harry Potter. I thought that you would be a supportive husband, in all my choices..."_

" _I would have done it if you had talked to me about it! You can't take this kind of decision alone, for heaven's sake, we are married and we have a son..."_

" _We have a son, yes, and I guess that it's now your turn to look after him," she continued in a softer voice. "I've already accepted, Harry. I'm leaving tomorrow."_

_Harry's breath was now erratic; he tried to calm down, gathering all the forces that he had left._

" _Why tomorrow?," he asked, tired by this discussion that seemed to have no issue._

" _I wanted to talk to you first," Ginny admitted, lowering her eyes not to meet his._

_Harry couldn't help but let out a cynical laugh._

" _It is so nice of you, Gin. Do you plan to come home on the weekends to see James, at least?," he asked, but he perfectly knew that it wasn't possible during a Quidditch professional training._

" _I don't think so," she whispered, suddenly ashamed by her decision. "But I know that he'll be fine with you. And if you need something, my mum will be happy to help."_

_Harry ran a tired hand over his face, not embarrassed by his glasses any more: he had decided to wear contact lenses years ago._

" _I see that I am the last person aware of this choice of yours. You've already thought about everything, haven't you?"_

" _I'm sorry, Harry. But it's just a matter of a year."_

" _It's a year spent far from your son," Harry hissed. "You don't understand how hard is it to be far from your family, Ginny, and I hope that you're not going to regret it, I truly do."_

_She nodded, as if she wanted to show to him that yes, she knew exactly what she was leaving behind._

" _I'm not giving up on my family... I'm not giving up on you," she muttered, taking a step toward him, her voice hoarse._

_Harry shook his head and headed to the bedroom, not looking at her any longer._

" _For now, I don't even want to talk to you, Ginny. I can't even... All that I'm asking you is to leave tonight. Say goodbye to James, and just... leave."_

_He closed the door behind him, taking care to magically lock the door, not wanting to see Ginny anymore. Her long and red mane, her bright brown eyes, her fleshy lips... She was all that he had ever wanted, and now, she was gone. Even if she said that she still wanted to be with him, he couldn't help but think that their relationship as he knew it was over, definitely over. How could he trust a woman who could take this kind of decisions without even talking about it with her husband in the first place?_

_When he heard the characteristic sound of the entrance door twenty minutes later, Harry decided that he had to take care of James. His son was crying, desperate after his mother's departure._

" _We'll be fine, Jamie, everything will be fine," Harry whispered to his son's, kissing his forehead._

_While doing so, he started to think about everything that he had to care of from this moment on. His job, James, the house..._

_He was now a single father._

* * *

 

PS: I'm sorry if there are mistakes... I am French, so it's not easy for me to write in a fluent English, but I am doing my best!


	2. To Live With a Son

**Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic**

_"Stage by stage, I tear apart_

_If brokenness is a form of art_

_I must be a poster child prodigy"_

**_Sleeping At Last - Neptune_ **

* * *

The day after found Harry laying on his back on his bed. He hadn't even taken the time to remove the sheets or his shoes for that matter. He was just here, his green eyes fixed on the ceiling, waiting for something to come. Inwardly, he still had the little hope to see Ginny pushing the bedroom's door, jumping on the bed like she used to do at the beginning of their relationship, and kissing him until he begged for mercy. She would then lie on the bed with him, and they would talk about their future over and over.

The _future_... Harry Potter had always thought that he would grow old with Ginny Weasley by his side. He had thought that she would stay with him until the end, that they would have so many children that it would be even hard to count them. Their lives had taken this road, with James' birth one year ago. But it was now a memory, a silly desire that a little boy who hadn't had the opportunity to live with his parents had cherished with all his heart.

Now, three years after their wedding, Ginny was gone. Oh, Harry was well-aware that this was supposed to be _only_ a matter of a year; his wife had been pretty insistent about this point. Despite this, he couldn't help but feel betrayed by this sudden decision, a decision that Ginny had taken without even asking his opinion about it. She was right, though: it was highly possible that he wouldn't have take it nicely. But he would have tried to live with it, one way or another. But now, it was different; Ginny had showed him that his opinion wasn't important to her eyes. Hell, Harry was almost sure that all the Weasley family had been aware of her decision long before him.

He cursed through gritted teeth, not wanting to wake James up. James had slowly calmed down after Ginny's departure, and Harry had spent many hours in his room, looking at him while the moon was shinning over the little boy. He had thought about every possibility: quitting his job in order to look after his son, hiring a baby-sitter, and even leaving him with Molly during the day. He was sure that Ginny's mum would be more than happy to help.

Harry loved the Weasleys; he had loved them since the beginning of his Hogwarts' years. They had been a second family to him, replacing both the parents that he hadn't had the opportunity to grow up with. Molly had adopted him right away, while his knowledge of the Muggle World had made Arthur Weasley growing fond of him. Ron had always been like a brother to him, despite their rows from time to time. And even now, while they didn't have so many time to spend together, Harry knew that their friendship was far from being over. All that the green-eyed man wanted at this exact moment was to meet his old friend in a bar, and to talk about all that had just happened to his couple the previous day. Would Ron take side with his own sister or would he stand with his old friend who had done anything wrong to lead to this situation?

Then, a cry. Harry groaned, but eventually got up, rubbing his eyes to erase any sign of tiredness. He had even forgotten that James was an early riser, a behaviour that his son surely didn't hold from him.

"I think that someone needs a diaper change," Harry mumbled when he took James into his arms, smelling his little body.

What did he need to change a baby? Obviously he had done it before, but two months had passed since his last day at home, and he noticed that Ginny had changed some little–but oh so important– things in the baby's room.

"Don't you want to help me, James? Where would your mother hide the diapers and the baby's wipes in your opinion?," Harry asked, mostly to himself, but also to catch his son's attention. The latter was looking at him with his big green eyes, slightly amused by his father's voice.

"And here they are," he went on while opening the first drawer of the changing station. Five minutes later, James was ready to leave the baby's room, his little hands clenched around his father's hair.

"I don't even know what you eat in the morning...," Harry sighed, heading to the kitchen to see if Ginny had left any note about James' food. Obviously, since he had eaten some mashed potatoes the day prior, James wouldn't be pleased with just a feeding-bottle.

"Do you want some bread and apricot jam? With a bottle of milk right after?"

James nodded enthusiastically, and Harry smiled for the first time of the day. How had he done to spend two other months far from him? All in all, he had spent four months abroad; four long months. He could have witnessed James' first word–which was, awkwardly enough, _daddy_ –, or just spent some time with his son: instead, he had pursued some criminals. Slowly, he put James into his highchair, and served him. He stayed close to him, observing his son while he was taking the slice of bread and jam into his thin hand. From time to time, James was staring at him with a surprise look, not used to see his father in the morning. Usually, the first person that he saw was his mother, Ginny.

"Mum is just... She will be home soon, Jamie, don't worry about it," Harry whispered to his son's attention, and the little boy gave him a smile before doing his best to eat his breakfast.

Harry was lost in his thoughts when an owl entered through the window, eliciting a cry of pure joy and entertainment from James. Frowning–and above all, fearing that it was a letter from the Ministry urging him to come to work–, Harry freed the owl from the heavy parchment attached to its leg, and took some crumbs from James' plate as a treat for the owl. It left as swiftly as it came in, and Harry unfolded the piece of parchment.

" _Harry,_

_I am sorry about last night. I shouldn't have talked to you like that, and I realise it now. You were right: I accepted your career years ago, I have any right to hold it against you. But you have to understand my point of view too. During years, I lived like Harry Potter's wife, and, I am not going to deny it: I like it. I like the fact of being your wife, I love above all the fact of having you by my side, in every situation. During parties, during family dinners... during our time together, just the two of us._

_You are the best thing I've ever had, and you gave me something priceless: our son. He is my pride and joy, and I love him with all my heart. But I thought that his birth would have changed this side of you that I am not fond of: your love for adventure, your incessant travels, your behaviour toward danger... Well, I know that you always pay attention to whatever could happen during your mission, but you have to understand me: what would I do if something happened to you? I have no career, just a miserable job at the corner shop. I thought that it would have been enough, with you providing for our family, but now that James is into the equation, I can't think like that any longer._

_This opportunity, I won't have another one like that in a few years, and you know it, Harry. You know that it is my last chance to make myself a name into the Wizarding World, to have the opportunity to be someone else than Ginny Potter, the wife of the Boy-Who-Lived. I am sure that it is something that you can understand._

_I am terribly sorry if I hurt you: I've never wanted to do such a thing. I know that it seems to be very selfish of me, and I am not going to deny it; it is incredibly selfish no matter how hard I'm trying to justify myself, and I hope that you'll be able to forgive me one day._

_I am currently at the Burrow, I am going to leave later in the afternoon. If you want to come and to talk to me, be free to do so. I'll be more than happy to see you one last time before my departure._

_I love you, Harry; I wouldn't have married you if I didn't. But sometimes, we have to take some hard decisions, and it is exactly what I am doing right now._

_I hope to see you today. I love you more than you think._

_Ginny"_

The parchment into his right hand, Harry stayed still during what seemed to be minutes. He read the letter once more, and noticed the places where the ink was blurry. Obviously, Ginny hadn't lived their little argument very well. Harry sighed and sat on a chair, putting the parchment back onto the dining room. James was staring at him, completely silent, as if he had understood that something was wrong with his father.

And it was exactly what it seemed to be: something was wrong with Harry Potter. Frowning, he took back the parchment and began to read it again. During his first lecture, he had felt something strange; he had felt like Ginny had been right all alone, and that it was him who had forbidden her to live the life that she had expected to live during her younger years. He had the impression that if she was unhappy with the life that she was living with him by her side, it was his own fault, it was because he didn't see that she needed to do something with her life, _something useful_ for their couple, for their family.

But now, as he looked back at her words, things weren't that clear to Harry. Ginny had avoided the true problem there, the only thing that he hadn't been pleased to notice: the fact that she had done everything in his back, without even talking about her dreams with him in the first place. For years, he had thought that they were sharing a healthy relationship, mostly based on trust. Harry wasn't a jealous man, or someone who wanted to dictate to his wife what to do. It was almost the contrary: they were both free to do whatever they wanted, the only limit being not to hurt the other person.

And Ginny had just hurt him badly.

A part of him wanted to go to the Burrow, to take her into his arms and to have the promise that everything would be alright, that they would find a way to be strengthened by this year or separation. But at the same time, Harry was to proud to give up so easily. Ginny had been the only one who had decided to leave, after all.

His eyes left the piece of parchment and he looked up at James. His son's head was slightly tilted on the side, and Harry smiled at him: he'd just realised what he needed to do.

**XxX**

Hermione Granger woke up into her own bed for the first time for too long. She didn't even try to hide her smile of satisfaction: nobody was going to look at her anyway.

Being in June had its advantages: it was the end of the school year, and she had left Hogwarts the previous day, ending her employment contract as a Transfiguration teacher. Minerva McGonagall, the woman that had helped her tremendously during these last years, had done her best to keep her into the professors team, but Hermione had politely refused to teach one more year.

"I've done it for quite a long time, Professor McGonagall, and now I think that it's better for me to leave," she had explained with a smile, while her former professor had sighed.

"We have been colleagues for six years, Hermione, you can call me by my first name. And I have to insist: I did not find you a good successor for the upcoming year."

"You will, I have no doubt about it. I really want to go back to London, to live the things that I didn't have the opportunity to do while working at Hogwarts... It was an amazing experience, _Minerva_. But at almost twenty-seven, I want to do something else with my life."

"Oh, my dear girl, I totally understand. Please forgive me, I did not want to pressure you to do something that you do not want to do any longer. I hope you the best, Hermione, you deserve it."

And then she had left Hogwarts, promising that she'd come back often. Hermione wanted to take advantage of these holidays to find another job, at the Ministry maybe, or at a totally different place. During years, she had thought about opening her own bookshop, and it was a good moment to realise this dream. While teaching at Hogwarts, she had been able to save a lot of money, and it was the good moment to use her savings.

The little flat that her parents had bought for her two years ago was the perfect place to Hermione's eyes: with its central location, she would be able to visit London without using some barbaric means of transport such as Apparition.

Hermione stretched lazily before getting up, not knowing at all that this day would change her life forever.

**XxX**

Harry cleared his throat, his eyes on the phone. Arthur Weasley had insisted to install one of these in their house, and he had done the same at the Burrow. Ginny had been reluctant to do so in the first place, but Harry had accepted right away. It was a mean of communication that he knew well, after all; the Dursleys had more than one in their house.

For some reason, he was feeling nervous about making this phone-call. Not that he was scared to hear the feminine voice on the phone; he was simply scared to hear her thoughts about what he was about to say to her. Would she freak out? Would she explain how crazy his idea was? Harry took another deep breath, while James was seated on the carpet, playing with his bricks, and composed the telephone number of the person he needed to talk to.

_Beep_.

Maybe that she wasn't here any longer, despite what she had told to him before.

_Beep_.

He ran a nervous hand into his short hair, thinking that it was by far one of the worst ideas that he had ever had.

_Beep_.

It was a sign from heaven, it has to be: he just needed to hang up, and everything would be alright. He just needed t–

"Hello?," said a sleepy voice.

Harry held his breath, not knowing what to say. He wanted to talk to her, of course, but at the same time, everything was spinning into his head, overwhelming her with so many informations, so many things that he needed to say to her. He had to talk about what had happened last night, he craved to ask her how was she, he was longing to ask her to be there for him.

"Hi... Hermione," he eventually said, trying to look happy on the phone.

"Harry!," she exclaimed, suddenly totally awake. "How are you? I haven't talked to you since... Wow, I can't even remember the last time we– damn, I am so happy to hear your voice."

Harry smiled. Hermione had always been like this: talkative, with so many things to say, so many things to share. That was the reason why she was the person that he needed right now.

"I am really happy to hear your voice too. But to be honest, we saw each other at Christmas, it's not that long ago."

"Well, it's been six months, which is quite a long time. For that instance, I'm sure that _little_ James isn't little anymore," she laughed.

"You're right," Harry shared her laugh full of happiness. "I was thinking about you actually... Do you want to come over, sometime? To look back on the good memories..."

He chewed his lower lip, anxious about her answer. He shouldn't have lied to her, he knew it. But how could he talk about something like Ginny's departure on the phone? He needed his best friend next to him, _physically_ next to him during this hard time. Hermione was his crutch, the person that could listen to him, yell at him, give him advice at the same time; she had always been, even if Ginny had slowly taken her place as his confidante over the years.

"Of course. What about this week-end?"

Harry counted into his head. Saturday was three days from now, and he didn't know if he could wait until then.

"Mmh, well... Are you available today? I'll cook something for dinner if you want," he asked, doing his best to hide his hope.

Hermione seemed to think about it during a few seconds, but she eventually accepted.

"Alright, I'm yours for tonight. But it's just because I'm back from Hogwarts and that I am too lazy to do the shopping," she explained in an amused voice. "Eight o'clock, your place?"

"Perfect. We'll see you tonight then."

She hang up, and Harry realised that he had said " _we_ " instead of " _I_ ". It was one habit that he needed to forget, at least for a year. With a sight, he looked down at James who was still playing with his bricks.

"Well, little boy, since you're here, you'll be my other half from now on," Harry mumbled before starting to play with his son.


	3. To Tell Her The Truth

**Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic**

_"And when I'm lonely, well I know I'm gonna be_   
_I'm gonna be the man who's lonely without you."_

**_Sleeping At Last - I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) _ Cover  
_ **

* * *

Hermione arrived at the Potter's house a little before eight o'clock. It was usual coming from her: she didn't like to be late, and she always managed to arrive early. Some people hated it, but she knew that Harry and Ginny would not be unhappy to see her that soon. Why did Harry say that he would cook, by the way? Usually, Ginny took care of everything, knowing that Harry wasn't a really good cook. Hermione wouldn't deny it: she had tasted Harry's meal one day, and it was... well, far from being the most tasteful think that she'd ever eaten.

Smiling at this thought, Hermione hesitated for a second in front of the door. Was it a good idea to ring the bell or to knock at the door? Maybe that James was still asleep... She decided to knock, and she quickly heard the characteristic sound of footsteps coming toward the entrance door. Suddenly, the door flung opened, and Hermione's eyes encountered Harry's green ones.

"Please, come. It's so nice to see you," he greeted her, and kissed her on the cheek. "How was Hogwarts this year?"

"It hadn't changed too much since our last year, to be honest," Hermione answered, before taking a step forward to let Harry close the door behind her. "The professors are still brilliant, and McGonagall is doing a good job as the headmistress. Filch is still noisy, but I don't think that you were expecting a change coming from him."

She laughed, but Harry just smiled in return. Then, he invited her to follow him into the living room.

"Well, right, I don't have a lot of hope when it comes to him," he eventually said.

"Where is James?," Hermione suddenly asked, almost cutting Harry off.

"He is fast asleep in his crib. My little boy had quite a long day, if you want to know everything."

Hermione sat on the couch, following Harry with her eyes as he went to the open-plan kitchen to take two glasses and a bottle of wine. He had changed, she noticed. Of course, he wasn't the teenager she used to know since a long time, but she realised that, even in six months, Harry Potter had changed; he seemed to be more mature than ever... and a little more taciturn too. Hermione frowned: when she had heard his voice in the morning, her best friend had seemed to be cheerful, as if his life was amazing. How could it be any different? He had a beautiful wife and an adorable son, with a job that everybody envied him. From the young and abused child, Harry had became a man full of confidence with a life that everybody wanted to have.

Harry came back in the living room quite soon, and he handled her a glass of wine. They clinked their glasses and started to drink in silence; a silence that Hermione quickly broke.

"So, Harry? I don't think that I came here to look at you in the eyes while sipping this absolutely delicious wine–I'd gladly take its name later, by the way–," she chuckled. "How is your life going? If I remember well, you were supposed to go on a mission earlier this year, weren't you?"

Harry gave her a little smile, and looked back at his glass of wine. "Exactly. I've returned yesterday. It went well," he explained, "and everything is under control now. I was in the south of Italy, but, truth to be told, I didn't have a lot of time to enjoy its beautiful landscapes."

"I went to Italy two years ago," Hermione remembered. "It was nice, even if I didn't have a lot of time to enjoy the summer there."

"Really?," Harry grinned. "Aren't you supposed to be in holidays for three months when you're a teacher?"

"Don't make fun of myself. And I've got some news for you by the way. Ready to hear it?"

Harry nodded, amused by Hermione's superior and funny air. She straightened her back and put the glass of wine back onto the coffee table, emphasizing the importance of her declaration.

"Enlighten me," the young man said to urge her to spread her news.

"It was my last year at Hogwarts."

"Mmh, can you repeat it?" Harry raised a surprised eyebrow.

"You heard me well, Mr. Potter. I quit my job."

"But I thought...," he began.

"...that I liked being a teacher," Hermione finished with a smile. "Yes, you're right. Being a teach is something amazing, it really is. I had so much fun at Hogwarts during these last fews years, and it was hard for me to make this decision, even if I didn't take too long to do so."

"Are you saying that you woke up one day and decided that it was the end?"

"Not exactly... I don't think that it is possible to make a life-changing decision in a heartbeat, even more when it is as important as a career. I realise now that it was something that I was thinking about since a long time, but I wasn't prepared to make the big jump yet, you know."

Harry slowly nodded, and Hermione had the impression that he was thinking about something else.

"Mmh, still with me, Mr. Potter?," she asked playfully when she noticed that he wasn't looking at her any longer. It seemed to be enough to take him out of his torpor.

"Oh, yes. Sorry Hermione. What were you saying?"

"Nothing important... But now, I don't know what to do. I've got all this free time to look for a job, or to think about opening my own bookshop, who knows..."

"I totally see you owning a bookshop. You're the most amazing bookw–"

"Don't. Say. This. Word," Hermione interrupted him in a laugh. "Really, Harry, I am not a bookworm. I just... love to improve myself."

"Don't play with words," he smiled. "We both totally know that you're a boo–"

" _Harry_ _Potter!_ ," Hermione almost shouted out, doing her best to hide her amusement.

"Well, fair enough. You're not a bookworm," he finally gave up with a grin.

"I told you not to say this word," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Damn it, Potter, you're so annoying."

"That's why you like me, don't deny it," he retorted with a wink.

"Well, if that pleases you..."

"Going back to your project," Harry resumed in a more serious voice, "I'm sure that you can manage to run your own business. And if you need some money to begin, I can totally help."

Hermione shook her head. "I didn't come here to ask for your money, Harry. I can handle myself, don't worry about it. Thank you but... no thank you," she said with a smile.

She knew that Harry would have offered her his help; he was like that, always wanting to help his friends, to do the best for his family.

"Alright, but if you need anything..."

"... _I will tell you_ , yes. I've heard this sentence so many times before that I don't think that it's useful for you to say it anymore," Hermione said, amused.

"I mean it, Hermione."

" _I know_. I don't want to flatter you, but I know how caring, how helpful you are. You were like that back in Hogwarts, and you haven't changed since then. Fifteen years have passed, and you're still the same person. I am truly grateful to have a friend like you."

Hermione wasn't the kind of person to open herself so easily, and Harry just nodded, not really knowing what to say back.

"Don't be so embarrassed," the young woman said quickly, taking the bottle of wine to get another drink. "I'm sure that Ginny would agree with me. Where is she, by the way? Taking a long bath like she is used to?"

Seconds before, Harry was embarrassed because of Hermione's compliments; now he was embarrassed because he didn't know how to tell her the truth. " _Ginny is gone_ ". It was a simple sentence, wasn't it? He just had to say these three words, these words full of meaning, and it would be over. She would open her mouth out of surprise, would say how sorry she was for him, and would ask him if he needed any help. He would say " _no, thank you_ ", like she had said when he had offered her his financial help, and everything would go back to normal.

But what normality was? To act like nothing had happened? To hide his head under a pillow not to see that his wife had gone, the Ginny's place in the bed next to him would remain empty until next year?

Awkwardly enough, Harry hadn't thought about this moment, this exact moment when Hermione would ask where Ginny was. He had thought about the dinner, about the things that he could say to her–his job, how he would handle the situation with James–, he had considered almost everything. But this part, the harder one... He just wanted to forget about the origin of his solitude and just wanted to focus on the _consequences_ of Ginny's departure.

"Harry?"

Hermione's worried voice took him out of his daydream, and he blinked a few times.

"What were you saying?," he asked her, postponing the fatal moment.

"Ginny...," Hermione explained, frowning. "You know... your wife, the petite woman with red hair. Quite stunning if you want my opinion," she went on with a smile. "Where is she?"

_It's time, Harry, you have to say it_ , his inner voice whispered inwardly, urging him to say the inevitable. Saying it aloud would make everything real, he knew it, and that was the reason why he didn't want to do it. He opened his mouth several times, and closed it right away. Hermione raised an eyebrow, but didn't utter a word; she was waiting for him to take the plunge, as if she knew exactly what was going on. Eventually, Harry did it: he said the truth.

"Ginny is gone."


	4. Discussion Over a Few Glasses of Wine

**Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic**

_"You were the one_  
You were the one who picked me  
What have we become  
Now have we begun our ending?"

**_Kina Grannis - Winter_ **

* * *

" _Ginny is gone._ "

Hermione blinked several times, searching for Harry's elusive look. Ginny was gone. She frowned, like she always used to do when she was focused into something important. And, Merlin's beard, this information was important, in the worst way. The heavy silence into the living room was just broken from time to time by Harry's slight cough, as if he wanted to distract his best friend from the obvious. Ginny was gone.

She continued to stare at him, not really knowing what to do. Did he expect her to ask him what happened? Hermione didn't want to do or say something that could hurt Harry, but at the same time, she wanted to be here for him. He had asked her to come, and she realised now that it was because of Ginny's departure: he wanted to confide in her.

"What happened?," she eventually asked in a soft voice, not wanting to force him to do something that he didn't want to do. This question was enough, at least for now.

Harry shrugged, but Hermione understood that it was because he didn't know what to say, not because he didn't know what had happened. Of course, he knew.

"She decided to leave to begin her Quidditch training."

"Well... That's quite unexpected to me, but I didn't have the opportunity to talk to her since Christmas, in my defence," Hermione retorted. "But you knew about her plans, right? Isn't it a good thing for her?"

Harry giggled nervously, and Hermione bit her lower lip, knowing that she had said something that she shouldn't have. He then bent over to fill his glass of wine a second time, doing the same with Hermione's glass. Seconds later, Harry's glass was already empty.

"Yes, it's awesome, isn't it? She decided to leave her one-year-old son with his father for a year. This is an amazing decision, really," he finished in a whisper, before taking the bottle of wine for the third time. But this time, Hermione put her hand onto his arm, urging him to let go of the bottle of alcohol.

"Harry, please," she almost begged him. "I understand that you're angry... and sad, but drinking is not a good solution tonight. Talk to me."

Harry's hand lingered on the bottle for a few moments, but eventually, he let go of it in a sigh.

"I don't even know where to begin," he mumbled, looking at an invisible point straight in front of him.

"Just tell me what happened. When did she leave?"

"Yesterday," Harry slowly started after clearing his throat. "I came home late in the afternoon; she was feeding James in the dining room. I realised that something was wrong, Hermione, as if... as if something had happened during my absence, something had changed in her attitude too. She seemed to be quite distant, which is quite surprising, knowing how exuberant she is sometime."

He stopped at this moment, and even if Hermione wanted to agree with him–Ginny had never been a distant woman at all–she didn't say a single word: it was his moment, and she didn't want to interfere. She just waited for him to resume his story, which he did moments later.

"I went to our room to put my bag down, and... I don't know why, I really don't, but I had this bad feeling... I decided to check the dressing-room and then I saw that her things were missing. You don't even know what I thought at this exact moment. I felt betrayed, lost and confused at the same time," he went on, still avoiding Hermione's look. "Then we talked and... and I realised that she wanted to leave. _No_ ," he continued when he saw that Hermione wanted to say something. "I didn't realise that she wanted to leave, it was so much more than that: she had already decided to leave, and my opinion wasn't important to her."

"But how can it be possible? I mean, she probably talked about it with you before taking this decision, didn't she?"

"That's the best part," Harry answered, pursing his lips as if he was doing his best to hide a smile of pure irony. "I had no clue that she wanted to pursue her Quidditch dream until she told me that she was leaving. That's the reason why I said that my opinion wasn't important in her decision process; she knew from the start, maybe from the beginning of the year since the auditions for the Harpies always take place around February, that she wanted to leave, and she didn't even think, not even for a second, that I wanted to give her my opinion about it..."

"Maybe that she didn't want to upset you before your mission...," Hermione tried, but inwardly, she knew that it would have been a pity excuse.

"You're too optimistic, Hermione," Harry almost laughed.

"And how are you doing, Harry? What do you plan to do now, concerning James, and... everything else."

He took the bottle of wine once again, but Hermione didn't do anything to stop him this time.

"You want to know the truth?," he asked her, his glass of wine close to his lips. "I have no fucking clue about what I need to do. I know that I have to take care of James, of course, since he is my son. But about my relationship with my wife... I don't even want to think about it for now."

Hermione nodded, understanding perfectly well what dilemma Harry was facing at this moment. He was totally in love with Ginny, and he had been since such a long time, but now, he was just blind with all this anger that he had toward her, all this resentment.

"You really didn't know that she wanted to leave, did you?," Hermione whispered, feeling her best friend's confusion.

Harry shook his head, and rose his eyes to heaven to prevent his tears to fall onto his cheeks.

"I had no clue, Hermione," he said before pinching the bridge of his nose to relax his body. "I wouldn't have reacted like this if she had told me about this... But now, I don't just feel alone, I have the impression that she betrayed our couple, that she damaged our relationship in a way. I know that it is selfish of me to think like this but it is the truth. I thought that we had built our marriage on trust, but it was obviously not her opinion about it."

"You're not selfish, Harry. You're a lot of things, but you're definitely not selfish," Hermione corrected him. "I don't want to blame Ginny, since I don't know what she really thinks about it, but... you're not the selfish person here. Not talking to you about something that important was her real mistake in my opinion. I can understand that she wanted to pursue the career of her dreams, but when you have a family, I consider that you have to think about their well-being before anything else."

"Oh, she had thought about everything," Harry retorted with a wicked smile. "She told me that her mum would gladly help me with James if I needed any help."

"Are you telling me that the Weasleys were..."

"...Aware long before I was, yes," Harry finished her sentence. "Funny, isn't it?"

"Molly is her mother after all, and we all know how close both of them they are...," Hermione tried to defend Ginny.

"And I am her _husband_!," Harry shouted, irritated to listen Hermione taking Ginny's defence. "I am her husband, and she had to talk to me about this. I would have been able to understand her dream if she had talked to me about it. But she decided to take this important decision by herself, and for now, I don't think that I am ready to forgive her about it."

Hermione nodded, looking at her glass of wine. It was a pity to see the most solid couple that she had ever known tear apart like this. Harry had been so happy the day of his wedding with Ginny, and even more during James' birth. To be honest, Hermione was sure that it wasn't the first quarrel that they had ever had, but if Harry had wanted to talk to her about this, it was because they had never gone through something so big.

"Will she be able to come home during the weekends at least?," she asked before taking a sip of wine.

"Not at all. During a Quidditch professional training, you don't have the possibility to come home whenever it pleases you. Ginny knew it when she signed for her training. During a year, she'll be with her teammates, and only them. With luck, she'll be able to come for Christmas and she will have a few days off during the year, but that's all."

"I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't realise that it was so... binding."

"Well, it was Ginny's decision. All that I can do is to deal with it, right? I need to focus on James, and James only."

His green eyes sparkled with a glimmer of pride when he talked about his son, and Hermione smiled at him.

"You love him with all your heart, I can see that," she noticed. "At least, James will have the possibility to spend more time with his father this way. Let's see the good in the bad, Harry."

He nodded, and smiled back at her.

"You're right, as always, Hermione. That was the reason why I wanted to see you tonight, actually."

"Really?"

"Of course. You are not like the others: you always try to focus on what is really important. Other people would have blamed Ginny for everything, but you didn't. You tried to understand what her reasons could be, and it makes me say that I made the right decision when I made that phone call."

"Oh, stop it, Harry Potter, you're going to make me blush," she chuckled.

"I mean it, Hermione. And to be honest, I'm really glad to know that you're not going back to Hogwarts this year: talking to you always calm me down, awkwardly enough. Another glass of wine, maybe?," he added when he noticed that her glass was almost empty.

"No, thank you. But what are you going to do about James? I mean... you're still working at the Ministry, and with you incessant travels..."

"I am going to retire from the missions, at least for now. I know that I have a bunch of money, and that I don't need to work for the rest of my life if I want but..."

Hermione waited for him to finish his sentence, but Harry seemed to be reluctant to do so.

"... But you have the impression that you have to continue," she finished, almost in an interrogative tone.

"Exactly. I am the Head of the Auror office, and it is my duty to continue to work with my colleagues. They are expecting a lot of me, and Kingsley too."

"I'm sure that the Minister would understa–"

"I don't want to quit yet, Hermione," Harry insisted.

"But James needs you more than anything right now."

Harry sighed, but inwardly, he knew that the young woman was right.

"I'm not working this week, since I've just returned from a mission. I just need to go to work on Friday afternoon for a meeting, but, apart that, I am free until next Monday at least."

"Alright, but what is going to happen after Sunday?," Hermione pressed him.

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "Look, for now, I'll take care of James. I still have a few days to take a decision about it. If I don't find a solution, I'll ask Molly to take care of him."

Hermione seemed to think about it for a few seconds, but she eventually nodded.

"Alright. But don't forget that I don't work at the moment, so if you need any help, I'd be glad to take care of James too if Molly isn't available."

At the exact moment when these words crossed the barrier of her lips, Hermione wondered why she had said them; she had never taken care of a baby, and she didn't even know if she could change a diaper. Harry seemed to agree with her inner thoughts since he started to laugh.

"Come on, Hermione, I am not even sure that you have ever taken James into your arms," he said playfully.

Hermione opened her mouth in a perfect "O", looking totally outraged.

"Of course I have! And I love your son, you know I do," she said in a voice full of persuasion.

"You love him, sure... from a distance," Harry retorted with a smile.

Hermione Granger wasn't not a woman comfortable with babies, and she knew it. It was one of the reasons why she was still nullipara at twenty-seven-year-old. Of course, being single didn't help either.

Suddenly, Harry's stomach made a funny noise, and he quickly get up, urging her to do the same.

"Let's go to the dining room. I did my best tonight, I hope that you'll like it."

"If it's not burnt, it will be an improvement compared to last time," Hermione whispered to herself while following him.

**XxX**

It wasn't burnt. The meat was a little too dry, but other than that, it was not bad. When they finished their desserts, it was almost midnight.

"I guess that you don't have a Floo in your flat," Harry asked her while clearing the table.

"No. I had to Apparate here, but you know how I hate it..."

"I know," Harry said with a smile. "I remember this time next year when you Apparated at St-Mungos for James' birth..."

"Don't talk to me about it," Hermione warned him, unable to hide her smile any longer. "I almost splinched myself that day."

"I still don't understand how did you do this, really. It's beyond words, knowing how talented you are."

Hermione got up and helped Harry to bring the remaining glasses into the kitchen.

"I don't know...," she eventually said. "I guess that I was too happy for you, knowing that you were about to have the family that you always desired. I just wanted to be here for you and I guess that I was too much in a hurry," she concluded with a grin.

"And you made it, despite the fact that you were at Hogwarts, probably teaching some Gryffindors the art of Transfiguration."

"It was a class of Slytherins, actually. So well, it wasn't a big loss, either for them or myself."

They laughed together, and when they finished to do the dishes, Hermione headed to the living room.

"Well, I guess that it's time for me to leave. Thank you for the dinner, Harry, and I have to admit that you made some improvements."

"Don't you want to sleep over? I don't want to say it, but... you drank quite a lot tonight."

"Not true...," she managed to say while trying to hide a yawn of tiredness.

"Come on, Hermione, two bottles for two?," Harry raised an amused eyebrow. "You don't want to be splinched, do you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but Harry didn't stop here.

"And you'll be able to see James tomorrow. But I have to warn you: my son is an early bird."

"Well... from that perspective... Alright, I'll stay here tonight," she finished while following Harry to the guest room.

Arrived in front of the door, Harry took her into his arms, and Hermione noticed that he didn't only want to say her goodnight while doing so.

"Thank you for everything, Hermione. I'll see you tomorrow. Sleep tight."

Hermione had just the opportunity to meet his green eyes for a second, and then Harry left, heading to his own bedroom. When she closed her eyes that night, she said to herself that she would do everything in her power to help her friend to overcome this bad moment.

_Everything_.


	5. You Can Count on Us

**Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic**

_I never wanted to say goodbye_  
You never wanted to see me cry  
Now I'm afraid to open my eyes  
Are you gone, gone, gone?

**_Kina Grannis - Gone_ **

* * *

When Hermione opened her eyes, she noticed that the rays of sun were already shinning all over the guest room. She stretched her back, only wearing her underwear. She had obviously taken care of magically locking the door of her room before going to sleep, not wanting to be discovered into such an outfit by Harry in the morning.

Not hearing any sign of life from the other side of the door, she decided to take a good shower before leaving the guest room. Harry and Ginny had thought about everything when they had bought this place: the two guest rooms had their own bathroom. When she finished, she dried her hair with her wand and put her dress on.

Surprisingly enough, when she opened the door, she heard James' laugh coming from the living room. A second later, she saw the most beautiful thing: Harry was playing with his son, making him jump in the air before catching him right away. James was more than happy, and Hermione couldn't help but smile at this sight.

"Good morning, boys," she eventually said, and Harry turned around to look at her.

"Oh, Hermione, hi. Did you sleep well?," he asked, James still into his arms.

"Yes, it was perfect. But I didn't hear you two playing when I was in the guest room, so I overslept..."

"I put a silencing charm on your door," Harry explained with a smile. "I thought that you didn't want to be woken up by this little guy," he continued before putting a kiss on James' forehead.

"Well, it wouldn't have been a problem. Can I...?," she asked, her arms outstretched to take James into her arms.

"Sure."

When Hermione took the little boy into her arms, she looked at him with an undecipherable expression all over her face.

"Hi, Jamie. Do you remember about your aunt Hermione?," she asked while gently caressing his back.

The little boy stared at her, his green eyes focused on Hermione's brown ones. But, soon enough, he started to smile at her, and Hermione smiled back before kissing his right cheek.

"You've changed so much," she sighed. "I remember when you were still a little baby, six months ago. And look at you now, you're the most handsome baby that I've ever seen."

"Not that you've seen a lot of babies in your life," Harry noticed with a laugh while putting James' toys back into a box.

"Don't listen to your father, Jamie, he's a killjoy," she whispered to his ear, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Hermione thought for a second that it was far from the kind of holidays that she had thought about when she had left Hogwarts, two days ago. She had expected to read a lot, to take her time to think about her project to open a bookshop... And here she was, at Harry's house, playing with his son.

"What are you thinking about?," Harry's voice got her out of her torpor.

"Oh, nothing important. Did James already eat?," she asked when she heard his tummy making some funny sounds.

"No... Just wait for me here, I'm going to prepare something for breakfast."

Hermione nodded, and decided to take a sit. She installed James onto her lap, and took what seemed to be his wubby into her hands. It was a soft toy representing a dog, and James didn't take long before taking it in his arms. Five minutes later, Harry found them into this position, and he couldn't help but smile while walking toward them.

"He seems to like you," the green-eyed wizard noticed before giving his feeding-bottle to James.

"Well... Babies love everyone, I guess."

"Don't be so sure about that. James, for example, is not so fond of his uncle Ron."

"Really? I thought that it would be the contrary to be honest. Ron is always the funny one..."

"He doesn't pay too much attention to him when we go to the Burrow," Harry explained. "Ron is... well..."

"Childish?," Hermione tried with a sad smile when she noticed that Harry was looking for the right word.

He looked up at her and slowly nodded.

"In a way," Harry simply said before staring at James once again. He knew that, even after all this time, Hermione was still reluctant to talk about Ron. They had been together right after the War, and after two years together, they had decided to spit, mostly because Hermione wanted to teach at Hogwarts and that Ron didn't want her to leave.

"You don't have to feel embarrassed, Harry," Hermione sighed when she saw that he was avoiding her. "This story is over since a long time. It's been seven years now, and Ron and I are in good terms, don't doubt it. I know that we didn't have the opportunity to spend some time just the three of us, but now that I'm back from Hogwarts, I hope to see you two more often," she concluded with a smile while helping James to drink from his feeding-bottle.

"How did you do it?," Harry continued, relieved to know that his two best friends weren't in bad terms.

"I'm sorry?"

"About Ron, I mean... How did you do to find a way to forgive him?"

Hermione didn't look at him right away, as if she was thinking about what answer she could give him. She understood that Harry was asking her this question because he wanted to find a way to forgive Ginny after her departure. But she also knew that, despite the fact that both of them were Weasleys, the two situations were slightly different.

"Well... It just happened," she eventually answered. "One day, I realised that, maybe, he wasn't the selfish person in our relationship, and that we both made mistakes. I was the one who left him, if you remember."

"But he said things that he shouldn't have said," Harry added, frowning.

"I know," Hermione sighed, thinking about this day, seven years ago, when Ron had asked her to leave their flat. "But we were young, and... our friendship was more important than our love for each other, I guess. I thought about this during years, Harry, and I realised that you can't stay mad at someone for so long when you went through so much together. We are not best friends or lovers like we used to be, sure, but we still care for each other, and that's the most important thing here."

"I don't know if I can be as wise as you are when it comes to Ginny," Harry admitted while running a hand into his short hair.

"She's your wife," Hermione reminded him. "She's James' mother. I know that it's hard for now, Harry, but I'm sure that you'll find a way to pick up the pieces."

"But how?," he insisted.

"I don't know," Hermione conceded, knowing that it would be hard for Harry to find a way to forgive his wife. "But James needs a family..."

"Yes, James needs a family, and yet, she decided to leave. To be honest, I don't even think that we can save this family any more."

Hermione shook her head and put James' empty feeding-bottle back onto the coffee table. "You are saying this because you're angry, and I can understand it, Harry. But I know that you're not this kind of person; I know that you'll do anything in your power to give James the family that he needs more than anything else. Until then, you can count on me, whenever you need my help."

**XxX**

They decided not to talk about it the rest of the day. They prepared breakfast for two together, and Hermione gave some of her favourite recipes to Harry. James was more than happy to have someone new to play with, and around 4 o'clock, Hermione decided that it was time for her to leave.

"I think that you two have things to do," she said before kissing James' forehead. "But I'll be glad to come back this weekend, if you don't have anything scheduled."

"You're more than welcome here, Hermione. I think that James and I are going to go to the Burrow in a few minutes," Harry said while looking at the clock. "I have some things to talk about to Molly, actually..."

"Don't be too hard on her, especially in front of James...," she warned him before kissing him on the cheek. "It wasn't her decision in the first place."

"I know... But I guess that she's the only one who can talk to me about Ginny's motives. Moreover, I need to ask her if she can take care of James for a few hours tomorrow. She's still his grandmother after all."

"Alright. Well, if you need anything, you've got my number," she said for the umpteenth time before opening the entrance door.

"I know," Harry repeated with a smile. "Goodbye, Hermione."

With a last smile, she Disappeared, leaving Harry and James on the doorstep.

**XxX**

The Burrow was calm at this time of the day. Molly had just prepared her favourite tea, and she served herself a cup before heading to the living room. The house was silent, and she shook her head out of despair. She remembered these years when this house was full of laugh, full of children cries... These days were gone forever now, and she was most of the time alone with Arthur, when he wasn't working, of course. Oh, she had the opportunity to see her grandchildren from time to time, but it wasn't the same. They were, for most of them, living abroad, and despite the fact that they had installed an International Floo in the living room few years ago, they had their lives to live and she could just see them once or twice a month.

James was the only exception, she thought with a sad smile while sitting into her favourite armchair, taking care not to split her beverage onto her knees. James was her last grandchild, and she loved him very much. He was a funny little boy, always happy and ready to play. He had a good temper, and was always more than pleased to visit his grandparents. Molly's expression darkened when she thought about what would happen now that Ginny was gone. She had thought that Harry would have came at the Burrow the previous day right after Ginny's letter, but he hadn't, to her great despair. She had so much things to say to him, and she wondered if it would be a good idea to write him a letter herself.

Just when this idea came into her mind, she heard a knock at the door. Frowning, she put her cup of tea back onto the table and hurried to the entrance door. Arthur wasn't supposed to be here at this time of the day, and, moreover, his golden hand on the clock was still on "work".

The door made its characteristic sound when she opened it, and she didn't move immediately when she met Harry's green eyes.

"Harry, my boy...," she whispered, her eyes going to James who was into his father's arms, his head rested on his shoulder. "Please, come in."

Her son-in-law entered into the house without a word, and Molly took a deep breath. Harry had every right to be angry, she knew it. But she just wanted to have the opportunity to explain herself about her daughter's departure.

"Is James hungry?," she asked, not waiting for his answer to go into the kitchen.

"No, it's fine Molly, otherwise he will not eat tonight."

The old woman nodded and followed them into the living room. Harry put James into the playpen that Arthur had made for him months ago, and accepted the cup of tea that Molly was handing him.

"Is Ginny here?," Harry asked even if he knew perfectly well that she had left the previous day.

"No, she's already gone," Molly answered in a sigh. "Harry, you have to know that I knew nothing about my daughter's plans until last week when she came at the Burrow to warn me about her plans, otherwise I would have tried to reason with her."

Harry looked straight at her, as if he was trying to understand if she was saying the truth or not. Molly went on.

"I swear to you... You know that I'm close to my family, Harry, and I am so proud to know that you're a part of it. I tried to make her understand how lucky she was to have you two in her life, but... she didn't want to listen to me. I don't want you to think that I push her into this direction, I've never–"

"I know," Harry interrupted her. "But what did she say to you? Why did... I don't get it, Molly, everything seems to be so crazy, so sudden..."

"She said that she wanted to achieve her dream," Molly muttered. "She was happy with both of you, I'm sure of it, but, inwardly, I guess that she wanted something different. Quidditch has always been her passion, Harry."

"Quidditch, or just being a celebrity?," Harry asked with irony. "All that I wanted was to have the opportunity to talk to her, Molly, that's all. She took this decision alone, and that's something that I can't accept so easily. She left her son for a year, for heaven's sake."

"She didn't know it in the first place," Molly tried to calm him down. "She thought that she could come home every weekend, but then the manager told her that it wouldn't be possible, given the fact that it's an intensive training because of her age."

"She knew it, we all know it," Harry cut her off. "She's fond of Quidditch since she's a kid, she can't say that she didn't know about it."

"Please, Harry... I realise that it's hard for you, but don't blame her too much... She's young, and she did a mistake, but..."

"We've got a kid together, Molly. I can't act like nothing happened. I'm not saying that I'm going to be angry at her for weeks, but for now, I can't forgive her, no matter how hard I try."

"And I totally understand... I'm glad that you came here with James, it means everything to me."

Harry nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on his son.

"I don't plan to forbid you to see him, don't be afraid about it. You're the only grandmother that James has left, after all."

Molly smiled, visibly relieved by Harry's decision.

"I'll do my best to help you during this year, Harry. You are like a son to me, don't ever doubt that. If you need anything, I'm here."

"Actually, I was wondering if you could keep an eye on him tomorrow afternoon. I need to work and..."

"No problem at all, my dear," Molly said swiftly. I'll be more than happy to spend the afternoon with this little boy," she ran her hand into James' hair.

"Thank you. I'll be here around two o'clock if you don't mind."

"It's perfect. You can even leave him with me for lunch if it's better for you."

Harry seemed to think about it, and eventually, he nodded.

"Perfect then. I'll drop him by around midday."

When Harry left the Burrow that day, he hurried to his house to give a bath to his son. After an hour spent in the warm water playing with a bunch of toys, the Auror prepared their dinner, and, truth to be told, he liked to spend moments like these ones with James. James was always cheerful, and they were doing a good team together.

But when he put James into his crib and closed the door behind him, Harry couldn't help but feel terribly alone. The living room seemed to be enormous with no one to share it, and he had the impression to see Ginny everywhere: in the kitchen, on the sofa next to him...

He had spent years in this house with the woman that he thought was meant for him. Ginny had always been here for him, and, above all, she had given him an amazing son. But the more he thought about it, the harder it was to understand her reasons to leave without talking about it with him first. Of course, he had been abroad during two months, but two months were definitely not enough to conclude a Quidditch contract, especially given the fact that Ginny was not a professional player yet. She had obviously thought about it during a long time in Harry's back.

But Harry needed to focus on his son, on James. Did he really need to quit his job, like Hermione had told him the day prior? It was a possibility. Truth to be told, it was even the best solution right now. He knew that he couldn't be really focused on his job while knowing that James wasn't with at least one of his parents. Harry sighed while running his hand in his brown hair. He would talk about it with Kingsley during his meeting tomorrow.

Harry didn't even realise that he had taken the phone into his right hand and that he had dial a number without even noticing it. When he heard a feminine voice on the phone, he just smiled.

"Hermione? I'm sorry to disturb you at this time of the evening, but are you available tomorrow for lunch?"


	6. Decisions and Communication

**Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic**

_"Let the fire outside yourself_  
_You are not the one who made this mess_  
_No you've got to pride yourself_  
_Take all of that is better found_  
_You will be the one to throw it away"_

**_Kina Grannis - Throw It Away_ **

* * *

" _My love,_

_I arrived at the training camp in Ireland two days ago. You don't know how much I miss you and Jamie. Does he eat adequately? I hope that he doesn't prevent you from working, though. Like I said before, if you have any problem, my mum will help you, so don't hesitate to go to the Burrow sometime._

_What can I say? The weather is quite awful, despite the fact that we are already in June, but my team-mates are great so far. I knew that it would be a hard year, but now that I'm here, I understand that it will be far worse than what I imagined. I realise, given all the things that we have to learn, why it isn't possible for us to go back home whenever we want too. But, even if it's too soon for me to talk about it, I have the impression that some of the best players can have the opportunity to go back home at the end of every three-month session. Amazing, isn't it? If it's the truth, be sure that I'll do my best during the first three months._

_I miss you already... You don't know how hard it is to go to sleep without giving a kiss to James every night. I've got a lot of photographs with me, but of course, it's not the same. And it's also not the same to look at you without being able to kiss you or to hug you, Harry._

_Never forget that you're the love of my life,_

_Please kiss James for me, and tell him that his mum loves him very much._

_Ginny_

_PS: You can send me all the letters that you want, I'll read and cherish all of them."_

**XxX**

" _Harry,_

_I've waited for a letter from you last week, but, obviously, you're too busy to take some time to write me. Anyway... I hope that you're not too overwhelmed by your job, and by all the things that you need to do with James. My mum sent me a letter and told me that you let her take care of James last Friday. I'm happy to see that things are settled between the two of you. She is more than happy to take care of James, and it reassures me to know that my son is with one of my relatives when you're not available._

_Talking about your job... Mum told me that you've decided to stop working for some time? Why didn't you tell me about it? I don't know what to think about it, though. I'm happy to know that, this way, you'll be able to take care of James, but... I don't want you to take such decision because I told you that I wasn't happy to stay at home when you were travelling so much. It's your job, Harry, and I know how much it means to you: being an Auror is your destiny, and you have to continue to ascend through the ranks. Who knows? Maybe that you're going to be one of the youngest Minister of Magic one day._

_Well, I guess that we will have the opportunity to talk about it when I'll be back home. Do you remember what I said to you in my previous letter? It's true! The three best players will be able to go back home for a weekend at the end of the first three-month session. For now, everything goes well, so I'm still in the race, and I hope to win._

_I have a lot of fun here, despite the fact that the training is hard. Do you realise that I wake up around 6 a.m, I go to the training at 7 and my day ends around 8 p.m? Trust me: it's hard to work out during so many hours, especially after so many years spent without playing at a high level. But I do my best, and I hope that it will be enough to be able to spend 48 hours with the two men of my life._

_Never forget that I love you, Harry. I know that it will be a hard year but you need to rely on the fact that we are married and that these twelve months are going to pass in a heartbeat. Then, we'll be reunited. Don't be too angry at me, please._

_I love you,_

_Ginny."_

Harry rubbed his eyes red with the lack of sleep after having read Ginny's letter for the umpteenth time. James was crying in his chamber, and it was the second night in a row when he couldn't sleep properly. With a sigh, he put down the piece of parchment onto the coffee table and get up from the couch, heading to James' room. Was his son sick? He didn't know, to be honest. He had never learned the spells to know if an infant was sick, and he was regretting it right now. _Ginny knows them_ , he thought before taking James out of his crib.

The one-year-old baby was red, surely tired of having yelled so much and obviously disturbed by the uncomfortable heat of his room. His father went to the window to open it, and returned to the armchair right in front of the window opening. He started to rub James' back, and after a few minutes, his son started to relax into his arms. Maybe that it was just a nightmare after all, like the one that he had had the night before. And several times last week too...

Harry kissed his forehead and continued to rock him at a slow pace. These moments spent with James were peaceful, despite the fact that they always occurred in the middle of the night. James' baby smell was relaxing, and hugging his thin frame against his own protective body was a relief for Harry. During the last week, he had spent his days and nights with James, taking advantage of this time with his son to make all the things that he hadn't had the opportunity to do before: going to the park with him, spending some time at the pool when the heat was unbearable, and reading James' favourite stories before sleeping.

A link was growing between them, stronger that it had been in the past. Not that Harry hadn't payed attention to his son before: but now that he could spend all his time with James, he realised all the little – but oh so important – things that he had missed in the past when he was working hard or when he was abroad. Somehow during this week, he had begun to ease the anger that he was feeling toward Ginny and had started to take advantage of this year alone to do everything that he hadn't been able to do before: spending quality times with James and making the most out of it.

**XxX**

When Hermione knocked at the Potters' door that Tuesday morning, she didn't expect to see Harry so tired when he opened the door.

"Mmh, am I interrupting something important... such as your sleep?," she asked when she entered into the house.

"Don't worry about it," Harry muttered while closing the door behind her. "James didn't sleep very well last night."

"It's not the first time," Hermione retorted in a worried voice. "Did Ginny tell you about his nightmares before?"

"No, she didn't."

"Did you ask her?," she insisted while following her friend in the kitchen, staring at him as he was preparing two cups of coffee.

"I didn't," he sighed. "If you want to know everything, I didn't answer to her letters, and I don't plan to do it anytime soon."

"Harry..."

" _Don't_ , Hermione," he cut her off before handing her a cup of coffee. "I think that I've read her letters a million times already. And even if I'm not as angry as I was last week, it still hurts."

Hermione remained quiet, knowing that the last days were a real pain for Harry. He had stopped working – except every Friday afternoon when he needed to go to the Auror Office to debrief the week with his co-workers – and was now _almost_ a single father for a year. She knew that Harry wasn't angry at the fact of taking care of James, quite the contrary: during her few visits at his house, she had noticed how pleased her friend was to be with his son, to play with him, to give him anything that he needed. She had witnessed his happiness when James called him " _dada_ ", and his laughs when he gave him a bath. Yes; even if Harry was hurt, definitely hurt by Ginny's decision, he was doing his best not to show it to his son.

Hermione had tried to be there for him whenever he needed her help; she knew that Harry would have done the same for her if she was in this situation. They had spent a few summer evenings together, and she had almost had the impression that they were back to Hogwarts during these hours, minus the fact that now, there was a toddler with them, someone to take care of.

Suddenly, the young woman saw Harry heading to the living room, his cup of coffee in his hand, and followed him.

"So you plan not to answer to you wife, to wait for her return next year and resume your life as if nothing happened?"

"She thinks that it's possible for her to return in less than three months, actually."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me... She has the possibility to come back home for a week-end at the end of the first three-months session. I guess that I'll decide what to do then."

Hermione raised a surprise eyebrow and sat down in the armchair to face her friend.

"And what are your options? You are talking as if you didn't want to resume your married life with Ginny."

She was about to take a sip of coffee when she noticed that Harry was looking away.

"Harry... Please don't tell me that you are seriously thinking about it...," she whispered.

"And what am I supposed to think about, Hermione?," he hissed, not wanting to wake James up. "As far as I know, Ginny decided to put an end to our family when she decided to leave almost without a word. She prepared her bags without even warning me, she accepted this training on her own, so tell me, please tell me why should I care about her feelings any longer?"

Hermione didn't think twice when she quickly answered.

"Because you love her."

Of course, Harry loved his wife, and it had been like that during the last ten years. He had given her everything that a woman could ask for, and beyond. If there was something obvious in all this mess, it was the love that Harry had for Ginny.

"Because you love her," she repeated, "and because James needs his two parents by his side. Even if you think that these days that you are spending with James are amazing – and I am sure that they will continue to be –, you know that James needs a mother. You two are his family..."

"She left him too," Harry interrupted her before quickly finishing his cup of coffee and putting it back onto the table. "I don't even want to think about what will happen once this training will be over."

"She left him with you," Hermione muttered. "She knew that you were here for James, and Molly too."

Harry remained silent, and Hermione pursed her lips. Even if she didn't want to upset her best friend, she had to say these things. Of course, she also thought that Ginny's behaviour was hard to forgive, but at the same time, she didn't want Harry to take this kind of decision so soon. Ginny had left almost two weeks before, and the green-eyed wizard needed to think about it before choosing what was best for him – and for James.

"Think about it, Harry. I don't want to interfere in your marriage, but... you have to talk to her, it's a bad idea to keep all these things for you. You don't have to be gentle or hypocrite, but please, don't break this link with the mother of your son."

When Harry looked up at her and sighed, Hermione knew that she had won this time.

"I'll send her a letter," he capitulated. "At least to let her know about James and his nightmares."

The brunette nodded, visibly relieved by his decision.

"And what do you plan to do today?"

"I think that I'll go to the park with James in the afternoon, do you want to come with us?"

"Count me in," Hermione accepted with a smile.

**XxX**

Hermione left Harry and James around six o'clock, telling him that she was invited by her parents for dinner. Once at home, Harry took care of James and eventually sat at his desk, a piece of parchment and a quill in front of him.

Several minutes passed, and Harry wasn't even sure that it was a good idea to write a letter to his wife. What could he possibly say to her? That he was hurt and that he didn't even know what to do once she'll return? He couldn't say it like _that_ , though. Even if it was what he was thinking about at this exact moment, he knew how important this training was to Ginny, and he didn't want to force her to come back because of him: it was the last thing that he wanted.

Taking a deep breath, he finally took the quill in his trembling hand.

" _Ginny,_

_I'm sorry I took so long before writing you a letter; life has been hectic these last few days._

_Yes, I – almost – quitted my job. I'm still working on Friday afternoon, but that's pretty much it. I've seen your mum twice since your departure, and things are going well in London. James is perfect, and we are slowly adjusting to a life just the two of us._

_Talking about James, he started to have nightmares since you're gone, and I don't know if it's related to your departure or not. Did it already happen in the past?_

_Anyway... I'm glad to hear that everything is going in Ireland. Take care of yourself._

_Harry."_

He read his letter several times, and noticed how cold his tone was. But he couldn't do better than that, no matter how hard he tried. Something was broken between Ginny and him, and, despite the fact that Hermione was right about the family that James needed, Harry didn't know if, one day, things would be better between them. To love someone was something, but to want to build something with the same person was another. He had tried, they had tried, but in the end, Harry realised that it was just a wall of smoke.

He knew how soon it was to make up his mind about all this situation, but, deep inside, he had the feeling that he was finally ready to put his anger and his pain aside and move on.

All for his son's sake.


	7. Evening's Mistake

**Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic**

_"Cause you are loved,_

_You are loved more than you know."_

**_Sleeping At Last - Light_ **

* * *

Sometimes, you have these moments in your life when you need to look back, and think about everything that you've done. Every little thing that had an impact on what you are right now. And Hermione Granger was experiencing this right now.

Lost into her thoughts, the _Daily Prophet_ in front of her, she was thinking about everything that she had done in the past; every battle that she had lived with Harry and Ron, every curse that she had avoided, every little genius idea that she had had. She refrained a smile, thinking about everything that they went through, as a team. They had always been three, even if the two boys didn't seem to like her in the first place. But never mind; at the end of their schooling, they were three and now...

Now they were not close as in the past. Life happened, and she had left for Hogwarts, burying herself into her job. Of course, from time to time, she was taking some time for herself, and decided to spend a few days with Harry and Ginny, but Ron... Ron was a part of her life that she almost wanted to forget about. Not the friendship part, no. Ron was her friend no matter what. Hermione refrained a sarcastic laugh when she realised that Ron had been her only lover, despite the fact that she was currently 26-year-old. At 26, she had just had _one_ boyfriend, and he was one of her best friends.

"Pathetic," she muttered to herself, and tried to focus on the _Daily Prophet_.

Even if the life that she had lived since the end of her schooling hadn't been the one that she was looking for, she had the feeling that now was the moment to change everything around her: her job, her way to see things. She wanted to _live_ , that's all.

At the dinner the previous day at her parent's, her mum had asked her if she had someone in her life. Awkwardly enough, Hermione had just laughed, as if it was a funny question to ask. But swiftly, while seeing her parent's disturbed look, her face had hardened. _No, mum, I have no one at the moment_. "At the moment": this little portion of sentence was supposed to give hope to her parents, to give her hope too. Who knew? Maybe that she would find someone at her new job. Maybe that she could subscribe to these speed-dates that her mum had talked her about one year ago. Maybe...

It was something that Hermione didn't like to talk about: her affective life. She had always felt insecure about her charm, about her look... Her hair was still a living hell, even if it was tamer than before, thanks Merlin for this little miracle. She knew that it wasn't with a face free from make-up that she could make someone fall for her, Ron had been clear enough about this point a few months before their break-up.

Was she mad at him after all this time? She wasn't sure. A part of her didn't want to forgive him for his attitude, but another part wanted to move on, and to be able to continue a friendship with the redhead boy. He meant something to her, of course, just like Harry meant something to her.

Harry... Hermione started to nervously play with a page of the newspapers when she thought about her friend, her friend who was the father of an amazing boy. A smile lightened her face, and she remembered about these moments that she had witnessed, these moments when Harry and James played together, sharing a real father and son relationship. For that, she was almost happy that Ginny had left for her Quidditch training. Somehow, it was what Harry needed: to focus on the real things, on the things in his life that mattered. James mattered, and he was the best thing that her friend had done in his whole life.

Inwardly, Hermione realised that she was a little jealous of Harry. Or was she jealous of Ginny? After all, she was the one who had everything that a woman could want in her life: a husband, a baby, and now a career. The former Hogwarts' teacher realised that she had none of it so far, and her smile slowly faded away.

"Between these three things, a job is easier to find... I guess," she whispered before starting to read the classified ads in the newspapers.

**XxX**

_**A month later** _

_I need to talk to you_. It was the six words that Hermione had said to Harry at the phone before hanging up. She had said that she would be at his house in less than an hour, a glimmer of excitement in her voice.

Harry just had the time to take care of James, to give him a bath before giving him his feeding-bottle. It was almost eight in the evening, and he had just came back from the Burrow where he had left James for the afternoon. Molly had been–as usual–more than pleased to take care of her grandson, and Harry had taken advantage of these moments alone to go shopping. Being a single father was quite an exhausting job, and he realised that Ginny had lived this situation during more than a month and a half, contrary to him. Oh, of course, he had taken care of James during the first year of his life, but he had been with Ginny during all this time, and it was nothing compared to do all of it alone.

Fortunately, during his moments of solitude, when the darkness was slowly taking advantage over the daylight, Hermione was there; she was always there when he needed her. And it was normal for him to be there for her when she needed his presence. And right now, she seemed to be more than eager to talk to him.

James was in his crib since less than ten minutes when a little knock was heard at the entrance door. A second later, Hermione's smile was shining all around, and Harry noticed that she had a bottle of wine in her right hand.

"May I know why you're here?," Harry asked after kissing her on the cheek.

"It's not like I didn't come at your house several times a week during the last month," she laughed while Harry was closing the door after her. "Moreover, we've got something to celebrate."

"Really? What the good news could be?"

"Let's open this bottle of wine first, and I'll tell you," she retorted with a wink, visibly more than happy by what she was about to say to him.

It was enough for Harry to put a smile on his face too; Hermione's enthusiasm was always contagious, and this time was no exception.

Two full glasses of wine later, they were on the sofa, clinking their glasses.

"So?," Harry asked, running an impatient hand in his dark hair, reveling the scar that was still visible on his forehead.

"I've finally got a job!," Hermione shouted, and Harry was glad to know that the silencing charm was active when James was sleeping.

"It's not really a surprise, but congratulations," he retorted before taking her in his arms. "Is it at Flourish and Blotts like you told me last week?"

"Yes, it is. I will be a bookseller for at least a year, and then... then I guess that I'll be able to open my own shop," she explained before sipping her wine.

"It's great, really. I can totally see you selling a bunch of necessary books to a horde of Hogwarts' first year," Harry laughed.

"Well, I hope that I'll do more than reading a list and collecting the necessary books for them. I'm really eager to know more about how to run a bookstore, and it will be a good training."

"When will you begin?"

"Right after this weekend. So I guess that I'll have less time to come here and spend some time with you and James," she finished in a whisper, staring at Harry as if she was eager to see his reaction.

Harry pursed his lips, and after a few moment of hesitation, he nodded.

"That's fine. After all, you will not always be around."

"What do you mean?," Hermione asked, finishing her glass of wine.

"I mean that you are twenty-six, you are brilliant, well... You know what I mean," he swiftly said before filling Hermione's glass once again.

The latter raised a surprise eyebrow, and couldn't refrain a laugh.

"Mmh, well, I'm not sure to understand what you are trying to say right now, Harry. As far as I know, I don't have any disease, and I don't have any suicidal ideas running in my head..."

"It's not what I mean, and you perfectly know it," Harry cut her off with a smile. "I just want to say that soon, you'll find someone, a boyfriend, so I better get used to it."

Hermione stayed still, not really knowing what she could say to her best friend.

"But it's not a problem at all, don't worry," Harry quickly added when he realised that Hermione didn't know what to say back. "It's just that I was used to see you around, to spend time with you and James, that's all."

He tried to smile again, but soon realised that his smile was a fake one. He didn't even know why he was talking about this right now. To hide his discomfort, he finished his glass of wine and filled it once again. Knowing that it wasn't enough, and realising that Hermione didn't seem eager to talk anymore, he stood up, heading to the open kitchen.

"Well, do you want to eat something? It is quite late, and I don't think that you've got the time to dinner..."

"Harry–"

"What do you want to eat? I can make some spaghetti bolognese, or I can order Chinese food if you prefer?"

"Harry–"

"You know that I am not a bad cooker anymore," he continued, ignoring her attempts to talk to him. "So I guess that the spaghetti are fine."

Hermione nodded, not trying to say what she wanted to in the first place.

"Spaghetti are fine."

**XxX**

"What is your best memory from Hogwarts?," Harry asked, once they were casually installed on the sofa, after having dinner. They had opened their second bottle of wine, and Harry was almost drunk. He could feel it; this little dizziness, this constant smile that he had over his face, these stupid questions that he was asking her since quite a long time...

"My best memory?," Hermione repeated while straightening her back. "Mmh, I don't know, really. Maybe the Yule Ball?"

"With _Krum_?," Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Please, don't say his name like this," she laughed. "You know, it was one of the few times when I thought that I was beautiful, so yes, I guess that it is one of my best memories from Hogwarts," she finished in a whisper.

"Really?"

"Really," she repeated in a laugh. "And don't give me that look, Potter. I know that I am not a pure beauty, drop it."

Harry shook his head. "Don't depreciate yourself, Hermione. You're brilliant, yo–"

"Yes," she interrupted him, "I am _brilliant_. It's the first thing that people say when they meet me. Look, it's the second time of the evening that you are saying that I am _brilliant_ to describe me, so...," she drawled with a sad smile, looking down at her glass of wine.

Unconsciously, she ran a hand into her mane of brown curls, a sign of her embarrassment. A minute passed, and Hermione wanted to leave Harry's house. But she wasn't sure that she could walk given all the alcohol that she had drunk during the evening; it was a habit that she had developed during her evenings with Harry, and she knew that she had to stop it soon.

Eventually, Harry put his glass of wine back on the coffee table and shook his head.

"You are brilliant, yes, you are. You are a brilliant witch, Hermione, and I can understand why it is the first thing that people see when they meet you: you are one of the most intelligent people that I know, and I have to say that I know a lot of brilliant people, no bragging here. It's not a bad thing to be clever, so don't think so little of you. But even if you are a brilliant witch, it doesn't mean that you're not beautiful, quite the contrary. _No_ , listen," he quickly added when he saw that Hermione was about to retort something. He closed the gap between them and ran a hand into her curly hair. "Your hair is a part of you; it shows how untamed you are, how wild you are inside. It suits you well, Hermione, and I don't want you to think that it's something that a man wouldn't love. I can assure you that more than one man would fall for these curls. And your face...," he continued, his hand slowly caressing her jaw, "Hermione, you don't realise that you are beautiful. These chestnut eyes, these fleshy lips...," he finished in a whisper, his eyes focused on the aforementioned lips.

Hermione didn't know what to do. Harry was so close, _so close_... She couldn't think properly, and her hands were shaking so much that she had to focus not to drop her glass of wine on the sofa. Harry's hand was still on her face, and a second later, his lips entered in contact with her own. The first thing that she did was to close her eyes, while Harry's hand was moving to her hair, buried into her mane. When she felt his tongue asking for her permission to enter into her mouth, she slowly opened her lips, and let him take possession of her mouth. Their kiss was slow, like every drunken kiss, and Hermione realised through her dizziness that it was the first time in _years_ that she kissed a man.

After a few moments, she put her hand onto Harry's one, and frowned when she felt something around one of his fingers. Despite that, she continued to kiss him with more fervor, but soon enough, something clicked into her mind: _Harry was wearing his wedding ring_.

She broke the kiss, her eyes full of horror.

"Oh my– I... I shouldn't have..."

Hermione wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, as if she wanted to erase what they did, and she didn't dare to look up at Harry.

"Hermione...," he muttered.

"We're drunk... I'm not supposed to be here, I need to..."

She didn't finish her sentence and got up, putting her glass of wine back onto the table in front of her.

"Please, don't freak out," Harry said, following her in the entrance corridor.

"It was a mistake," Hermione muttered before taking her bag. "I'm not Ginny, Harry."

"I know," he snapped. " _I know_. I just wanted to show y–"

"I need to go," she whispered before opening the door. "I'm sorry."

She didn't even kiss him on the cheek. She just left into the night, not even taking the time to put her jacket on. Harry stared at her until she Disappeared in a " _Pop_ ".

One thing was sure: he wouldn't have the opportunity to spend some time with Hermione before a long, long time.


	8. Aftermath

**Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic**

_For 27 years I've been trying to believe and confide in_   
_Different people I've found._   
_Some of them got closer than others_   
_Some wouldn't even bother and then you came around_

**_The Cardigans - Communication_ **

* * *

"It didn't happen, it didn't happen...," Hermione couldn't stop repeating over and over, her hands shaking on her lap. It was like a mantra, something that she couldn't stop saying, something that she wanted to believe in so damn much: Harry Potter didn't put his lips on hers.

It was a total nonsense when she was thinking about it. Harry Potter, her friend since she was twelve-year-old wouldn't do such a thing. He was married, for Merlin's sake, married to a beautiful woman who had given him a _son_ , no less.

She buried her head into her hands, trying to remember when everything had went wrong. Was it when she had talked about her job, when Harry opened the first bottle of wine? Or maybe it was when they had started to eat, or maybe...

"Oh my..."

No matter how hard she was trying to remember, the only image that came into Hermione's mind was Harry's face coming toward her, his lips just a few inches from her own, and then... then she had closed her eyes to _feel_ the kiss better.

She had closed her eyes, yes, she had done it on purpose. She realised that she had thought, during a second, that what was happening was normal, while it wasn't in the slightest. It wasn't normal because of so many things. Ginny, James... even the fact that he was Harry Potter. Harry fucking Potter, the little boy who had greeted her when she had been in the Hogwarts' Express fourteen years before; the man who had asked her what was her opinion before asking Ginny to marry him–and she had said that it was a good idea, of course–; the same Harry who had slept under the same roof as her during their stays at the Burrow, _his wife's house_.

After a few moments of despair, it was the only remaining fact that Hermione could think about: Harry was married, and yet, he had kissed her. The reason why he did this was still blurry in her mind but... they shared a kiss.

She refrained a moan of shame and, with the help of all the alcohol that she had drunk one or two hours before, she lay down on her couch and fell asleep.

**XxX**

He couldn't do it. He wanted to, but his hand seemed to be made of steel.

Harry was staring at the phone since a long time, too long to be mentioned. Hermione's number was stuck into his mind; he just had to pick up the phone, dial her number and pray for her to be at her flat. It wasn't hard, was it?

James was playing on the carpet right in front of him, and his incessant babbling wasn't enough to disturb his father; the situation was really out of his control.

For the umpteenth time, Harry mumbled the things that he wanted to say to Hermione.

"I'm sorry for what happened last night. We were both drunk, you was talking about how unattractive you were and I just wanted to show you how wrong you were, _as a friend_."

Short, simple, and straight to the point. But the shortest things seemed to be the hardest ones to do, and he was thinking over and over about what Hermione could answer to this statement. Harry knew her well enough to be almost 100% sure that she had freaked out and that she had thought about it for hours even after she left. She was Hermione, the woman who could think about a problem for several hours, several days even in order to find a solution. And for now, Harry didn't have a solution for her, just some apologises, and he hoped that it would be enough.

The green-eyed wizard eventually took a deep breath, and his hand was on the phone when it suddenly rang, making him jump on the coup. James stop playing for a while, half-surprised, half-amused by his father reaction. The phone rang two times before Harry decided to pick up, clearing his voice first.

"Hello?"

He heard a scream at the other side of the phone, and he soon realised that it wasn't Hermione–why would she call him anyway after what happened between them?–.

It was his wife.

"Harry, oh God...," Ginny seemed to sob, visibly shocked to hear his voice. "I... I can't stay long, I'm using my team mate cellular at the moment. Her husband is a Muggle, so... Oh Harry, I'm so happy to be able to talk to you, you can't even imagine how much. How's James? How are things going while I'm not at home? What are you doing and what is our son doing? Tell me everything."

She stopped talking, almost out of breath, and Harry could almost see her wide smile even if she was far away, somewhere in Ireland.

"Everything is fine, I guess," he eventually found the force to answer, after shaking himself out of his torpor. "James... he is playing right next to me, actual–"

"Can you give him the phone?", she cut him off. "I want to hear his voice and I'm sure that he would be happy to hear me for a few seconds."

"Are you sure that it is a good idea?," Harry asked, looking at his son as if James would give him an answer. In return, James just cocked his head to one side, noticing his father's embarrassment.

"Why not?," Ginny almost shouted. "I mean, I'm sure that he misses me."

"Exactly. He misses you, and I'm sure that you remember about his nightmares right after your departure. As far as I know, you couldn't explain me the origin of these nightmares, and I'm pretty sure that your absence triggered his nights' terrors."

"Are you serious? Don't be silly, Harry. I just want to hear my son's voice."

"Please, Ginny..."

Harry couldn't stop thinking about these nights that he had spent in James' bedroom, trying to calm him down for several hours, with little success every time. He could almost see his face red from crying over and over, and he knew inwardly that it was a bad idea for James to hear his mother's voice at this exact moment, three weeks after things calmed down.

"But you're coming home in a month, aren't you?," Harry insisted. "I know that you miss him, but you have to underst–"

" _You_ don't understand!," Ginny shouted, irritated by this conversation. "I just want to hear my son, don't you get it? He's a baby, he will get over it in a few days, so what's the big deal? I don't even know if I'll have the opportunity to come home at the end of the first three-months training, I don't–..."

She started to cry, and Harry felt his heart break a little. His wife was crying because he didn't want to let her hear their son's babbling. His wife was crying because she was far from her family, and he wasn't helping her to go through this hard time. A small part of him was screaming that she had chosen to go through it, and that it wasn't _his fault,_ but then every little thing that he had done the previous night returned to him. He had cheated on her, and now, she was crying because of him, even if she didn't know what he had done while she wasn't there. How ironic, Harry thought, still listening to Ginny's little sobs and James' babbling.

"Please," she insisted, and Harry sighed while putting her on speaker.

"He's listening to you," he muttered, his attention focused on James who still had his favourite toy in his little hands.

"James?," Ginny said in a strangled voice. "It's mummy, my little boy. I miss you so much..."

James' expression hardened, as if he was trying to understand what was happening. He was listening to his mother's voice, but he had no idea where this pleasant sound was coming from. He stayed still, not knowing if he had to make a sound or to remain silent.

"James?," Ginny insisted. "Mummy is currently away, but I promise you that I will come back soon, and we will get back to our previous life, I promise," she said in a whisper, wanting to elicit a reaction from her son. "Can he hear me?," she concluded, mainly to Harry's attention.

"He's staring at the phone. I bet that he has no idea about what is going on."

"Alright..." his wife accepted her defeat with a sigh. "I love you, Jamie, and I can't wait to hug you. Be nice with daddy."

Harry put the phone back next to his ear, and waited for her to continue to talk.

"I can't stay, Harry... I've always thought that this phone was useless, but now I'm not so sure," she said in a laugh. "I love you, and I can't wait to hug you."

"That's what you said to your son," Harry couldn't help but smile.

"I know. Well, what do you think of "I love you, and I can't wait to kiss you"?"

"Much better."

"I'll try to write you a letter soon, but I can't promise you anything. Training is awful these days. Take care of both of you, okay?"

Harry nodded, but soon realised that she couldn't see his movement.

"Yes," he blurted. "Yes, I'll do it. Take care of yourself too."

"Bye."

She hung up, and Harry stayed long seconds with the phone still in his hand.

He needed almost a whole minute to realise that he didn't even say to his wife that he loved her.


	9. I Need You

**Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic**

_"One more move and there's no looking back_

_I won't pull away now, forever by the wayside"_

_**Anna Nalick - Car Crash** _

* * *

Flourish and Blotts was in a turmoil at this time of the year. The young wizards and witches who were about to begin their schooling at Hogwarts were excited to have their books – but Hermione was sure that they were more excited about the fact to buy new things, not to use them in a near future – and to meet their future classmates.

With a smile, Hermione Granger gave a copy of _Magical Drafts and Potions_ to the little blonde girl who were staring at her with wide eyes.

"Here you go. Do you need anything else?"

"N–no, Miss Granger. T–thank you," she stammered, her book close to her chest, before turning around.

Hermione pursed her lips in amusement; it wasn't the first time she met someone intimidated by her. The War had reached its end ten years prior, but the memory of this dark period of the Wizarding World was still vivid in people's mind. These children had grown with the memory of this War, they had heard so many things about Voldemort, and, of course, the man who had defeated him, Harry Potter. But Harry wasn't the only one to be famous; Hermione was usually named, along with every member of the Order of the Phoenix. It was nice to know that her contribution to the War hadn't been forgotten, but sometimes, she just wanted to be like every other person. Unfortunately, that was easier to say than to be, but she was happy to notice that the fuss about the "Golden Trio" had calmed down with time passing by. Now, she just had to deal with shy smiles and some congratulation from time to time.

Working at Flourish and Blotts was something new to Hermione. She had had to discover a new way to deal with things, totally different than teaching at Hogwarts. Here, no one expected from her to give her opinion about books, to recommend one instead another. They just wanted her to do her job, which was to sell as much as possible. Her boss, a middle-age and haughty man, had warned her several times during the last week about her attitude, but she couldn't help but doing what she believed a real bookseller would do: help the customers to find the book that they would cherish during months and months.

It was almost five o'clock, but the bookshop was still full of people, students or not. Diagon Alley was crowded, and Hermione was tired by her day. Fortunately, a glance at her watch elicited a sigh of relief from the young woman; she would soon be able to come back home.

"Granger, come here."

The annoying and high-pitched voice of her boss shook her out of her torpor, and Hermione made her way toward the dozen of students who where staring at the last best-seller of Rita Skeeter, based upon the rise and fall of the Ministers of Magic. When she eventually joined Rufus Tertington, he whipped his thin glasses from his nose, a sinister look over his face. He was with another man, younger than him and with a smile that denoted with her baleful superior.

"Granger, let me introduce you Daniel Gathy. Since you seem to be incapable of working like I want you to work, I hired him to help you," he explained with a smirk.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, not expecting something like this. She couldn't turn her attention on Daniel Gathy, since she was eager to know more about this sudden decision.

"I beg your pardon? I am here since a week, and I thought–"

"Obviously, you thought wrong," Mr. Tertington cut her off. "We are not at Hogwarts here, Granger, and, for your information, no one cares about your opinion about books here. You need to learn _how to sell_ books, we are not in a library. I expect to see you tomorrow morning at eight. Have a pleasant night," he almost purred, his bald face close to hers before turning around and heading to his office behind the cash register.

Hermione stayed still, staring at Rufus Tertington while he disappeared behind heavy door of his office. She then started to shook her head slightly, as if she couldn't believe what had just happened. She didn't even hear the little noise that Daniel Gathy made with his throat to catch her attention; he needed to wave his hand in front of her face to do so.

"Earth to Moon, are you receiving me?," he asked with a grin, showing his white teeth to the whole world.

Hermione eventually focused her attention on him, and noted how tall he was. Ron was tall, but Daniel was even taller, if it was possible. His dark hair looked like Harry's unstructured one, and his brown eyes were made of the brightest shade that Hermione had ever had the occasion to see.

"Yes...," she muttered, disturbed by his appearance. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. Hermione Granger," she introduced herself with her hand out.

"Daniel Gathy," he said while shaking her hand. "I am the one who should be sorry. I didn't want to meet you in such circumstances."

"It's not your fault. To be honest, I prefer to know that you are the one who is going to help me instead of Mr. Tertington."

"Good point. I had to deal with him two years ago, and I admit that it was awful. With some luck, I'll be better than him when it comes to help you to learn his _selling tricks_ ".

She smiled back at him, happy to know that she wasn't the only one who didn't like her superior.

"No luck needed here. I am sure that you will be better than him, it's not really hard to be honest."

"You'll have to learn more about me before saying something like this. Maybe we could have a drink together? It seems to me that your day is almost over."

All of a sudden, right before Hermione had the time to retort something, a babel of noises came from the entrance of the bookshop, and Hermione turned her attention to the dozen of customers who headed to it. With a frown, she followed them to see what was happening, and she could eventually hear some whispers along the way.

"It's him..."

" _No. Way._ "

"I'm sure that I recognised his scar...," a young woman muttered, her daughter's into her arms.

And she was right. Hermione had to work her way into the crowd, and almost a minute later, she was next to Harry. James was in his arms, and he was smiling at the teenagers who were handing him their books to have an autograph.

"I'm sorry, but I definitely cannot do it with my son in my arms...," he apologised softly, not realising that Hermione was just a few feet from him.

"What are you doing here?," she asked, and Harry quickly turned around to see the owner of this pleasant voice.

"Hello to you too," he retorted with a smile, trying to set aside the fact that a bunch of people was looking at them.

"It's not safe for you to be here with James on top of that."

"Then you should have answered to my numerous phone calls," Harry explained.

"I was... busy."

"And you are now?," he cocked his head to one side.

Hermione looked at Daniel, chewing her lower lip at the same time. He nodded with a smile before disappearing behind the cash register, giving her the authorisation that she was seeking for without even realising it.

"I am not," she muttered, doing her best to look at James and not his father.

"Can we go to a quiet place then?," he asked, hope in his voice.

James started to moan, visibly not happy to be here, surrounded by a lot of people, and Hermione gave up.

"Alright, let's go to my place."

**XxX**

"Why did you hesitate?," Harry's voice came from the sitting room right after he closed the door of Hermione's bedroom. James was currently sleeping in her bed, visibly tired by his day.

In the kitchen, Hermione stopped her movement for a fraction of second, before resuming what she was doing. The two cup of tea full, she brought them into the living room.

"I'm sorry?," she asked while handing him one of the cups.

"When we were at Flourish and Blotts. You hesitated before accepting my invitation."

She sat in the armchair and shrugged.

"I don't know."

"Who is he?," Harry asked, and he was almost surprised by the serious tone that he took to ask her this question.

"I've just met him," Hermione dismissed with a wave of hand. "We are going to work together, that's all."

"He's handsome," the green-eyed wizard insisted.

"I've just met him," Hermione repeated with a sigh before looking at the door of her bedroom where James was asleep. "He seems tired."

"He didn't sleep well last night. And the night before. And the night before again," Harry explained, his jaw clenched.

"His nightmares again?"

Her best friend nodded. "Ginny called a week ago, right after... _You know_. She wanted to talk to James, and here's the result. I should have said no."

"I guess that it's difficult to say to the mother of your child that she can't talk to him," Hermione tried to comfort him. "You weren't supposed to know that this would happen."

"Like I wasn't supposed to know that you would do your best to avoid me after what happened between us next week?," Harry let out in a laugh, an almost cynical smile over his face.

Hermione looked down at her cup of tea. She knew that that was exactly what she had done during the last few days; avoiding him. She had disconnected her phone, and had returned the two letters that Harry had sent. What could she possibly say to him? That she was terribly ashamed by what they had done? That she couldn't stare at her reflection in the mirror because it reminded her how awful to her friend she had been?

"It was a mistake," she muttered, still not daring to look at Harry's green eyes.

"It's not a mistake if we both enjoyed it," Harry swiftly retorted, and this unexpected answer was enough to make Hermione look up at him.

"It's not a reason for you to say something like that," she said, frowning. "It was... disrespectful and... wrong on so many levels. You a–"

"You didn't deny that you enjoyed it," Harry interrupted her, doing his best to hide a smile of triumph.

"Wh... You... Did you say this to make me admit that I liked it?," Hermione stammered, a horrified expression over her face.

"I'm just saying that it's not a viable option for both of us to act like anything happened, or worse, to be horrified by what we did. Even if we were quite drunk, I don't regret it. You needed me that night, and... well, maybe that I needed you too. Maybe that I still need you."

For the first time in the last fourteen years, Hermione saw something different in the bottom of Harry's eyes. What she had always seen in these green and vivid eyes was friendship, pride, and sometime admiration. But never, oh never, had she seen this mixture of sentiments in Harry's eyes. It couldn't be described as love, or lust, or even attraction. It was different; he seemed to care for her, at another level than friendship, to truly care for her.

And despite the fact that she knew that what she was about to say was forbidden, she didn't think twice before opening her mouth and let the words escaped it.

"I'm not horrified by what we did. Well, I am, in a way, but I'm horrified because I liked it, Harry. And I shouldn't have liked it since, as far as I know, you are married," she explained with a delusional smile. "I don't want you to pity me, or something. I really don't."

"I don't pity you."

"Come on, Harry. We both know that you kissed me because I said these things about how unattractive I think I am. You care for me, and I appreciate that, I truly do, but don't make me believe that there is something between us when it is obviously not the case."

She bit her lower lip, not wanting to be overwhelmed by her feelings at this exact moment. Harry looked down at his hands around his cup of tea, disturbed by what the young woman had just said.

A silence settled between them, and after long minutes, Hermione started to drink her tea.

"You should drink it, it will be cold otherwise," she muttered.

"Why are you so stubborn, Hermione?" Harry asked in a calm voice, before mechanically bringing his cup of tea to his mouth and drinking the still hot beverage.

"I am not," Hermione retorted.

"You are since you obviously want to forget the most important part of what I've just said."

"Which is?," the brunette asked before putting her cup of tea back onto the coffee table.

Harry did the same, and after a few seconds of reflection, he eventually said it again.

" _I need you_."


End file.
